


The Night We Met

by Vae



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-19
Updated: 2007-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-22 23:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vae/pseuds/Vae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He <i>should</i> go after Nancy. To her tiny flat near the city, with the worn linoleum floor and the window that rattles when the wind's in the east, but he can't lie to her, not tonight, not when she thinks she loves him, not now he's seen James.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night We Met

The last thing he expects to see when the blinding light fades is the figure of James Harper, still standing there, uncertain smile on his face. He looks subtly different to the man Jack had danced with only moments before, but not different enough to stop the yearning for him.

"Jack?" James whispers, almost too low to hear amidst the sudden shocked babble. It's more than just his name; it's a question, a plea he can't even pretend he wants to refuse. Holding James' eyes for an eternal instant, Jack nods once and turns on his heel, making his way through the crowd.

He _should_ go after Nancy. To her tiny flat near the city, with the worn linoleum floor and the window that rattles when the wind's in the east, but he can't lie to her, not tonight, not when she thinks she loves him, not now he's seen James. Danced with him. Kissed him, God, he must be crazy, to wait here, leaning back against the wall, eyes closed until a featherlight touch to his hand brings his attention back to reality, to the mystery of the man next to him. A man who kisses with his heart and soul and holds desperation in his eyes.

It's a mild night, stars picked out like jewels in the heavens, reflected in the bay, light reflected back at them as they walk, close enough to touch, giddy anticipation thrumming through Jack and building tight in his chest. When James stops, his hand curling around the railing, looking out across the ocean, Jack looks back at the city. What he's fighting for, and he'll risk it all for the touch of this man. "How long can you stay?"

"Until morning." James glances up at him, and it's all there in his eyes, everything that the night can hold, everything that shouldn't be between them. Promise and threat entwined. "Definitely until morning."

Not long. Not long _enough_ , but he'll take what he can get, reckless of consequences, and if he can get until morning with James, he'll make the most of every moment, hand sliding along to nudge fingers against James' wrist, tracing his initial against the delicate underside. "I've got a room in town."

Eyes meet, and he doesn't need to say any more.

Bare and basic, the room offers little more than privacy, a lamp and a bed. It's not important. All that matters is the press of James' lips, even better than earlier, more intense and God, he tastes fantastic, smooth and clean and intoxicating. James' kiss licks fire through him, hungry and urgent, uncontrollable, eyes closing to absorb every trace of sensation, strength of James' arms keeping him close, gentle caress of hands shivering along his spine to cup his ass, traveling through to coil hot and needy in his balls, cock flushing full in the space of a single heavy heartbeat. The uniform's harsh under his fingers until it falls away and the sight steals his breath, because James is stunningly perfect, lightly defined muscle that he has to touch, fingers hands nails lips teeth tongue, teasing out a half-strangled moan twisted with incredulous laughter, and then he's pulled up into another kiss, dizzying, demanding, his own clothes discarded in the few short stumbling steps it takes them to reach the bed without looking, without breaking contact.

It's clear that James isn't new to the feel of a man's body against his, reactions free and freely given, hesitation banished in the confident exploration of hands, simple, silent request when James pulls him close and the heat sparked by full body contact brings gasps from them both. Jack catches James' face in his hands, looking into his eyes before drawing him into a slow, deep, deliberate kiss, and then leans back, just far enough to focus, as his hand slips between them, seeking, finding, lining cock against cock and stroking together, world narrowed to one room and one bed and two bodies moving as one, steady, repeated roll of hips into a cage of joined fingers in search of freedom, the freedom born of pure sensation, lustloveneeddesire spiraling higher, faster, hungrier to the peak of timeless _now_ , crystalsharpclear connection forged, shattered and rebuilt in a pair of broken, wordless cries.

When world and breath steady, Jack turns his head to see the joy painted on James' face.

When dawn arrives to interrupt, only the ghost of a kiss remains as evidence that James was more than a dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the fourth [Porn Battle](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/317183.html). So pretty much PWP. Prompt "nightingale".


End file.
